


Baby Steps

by Center_of_the_Galaxy



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Claude and Byleth Date Before Timeskip, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route Spoilers, Golden Deer Are My Baes, Hurt/Comfort, I don't think so since they're practically the same age, Manuela Meddles, Seteh Is Not Here For All Your Pranks Claude, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, is that underage?, school shenanigans
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2020-08-19 15:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20212408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Center_of_the_Galaxy/pseuds/Center_of_the_Galaxy
Summary: Goddess help her, she couldn't stay away from him even though she knew that he would be the end of her.*Byleth and Claude's relationship as lovers during their days at the monastary and continuing into the post time-skip.*





	1. Outcasts

The Golden Deer were outcasts.

Byleth knew it, the students knew it and certainly, the other houses knew it. While the two other houses came from prominent lands with a strong central government, the Alliance was known for its infighting. Honestly, you only had to watch Lorenz and Claude for five minutes to get a sampling of what must occur during household meetings in the Alliance. But while many of the other students looked down on the Golden Deer, Byleth couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging with them.

They were outcasts, yes, but they were _her_outcasts and that made all the difference. Besides, when Byleth truly thought about it, she supposed she was an outcast too. Much younger than the other professors and unable to truly feel her emotions fully. She didn’t even have a heartbeat. What kind of person was she, truly? That, plus the talking girl within her mind, made the young professor wonder if she was truly going insane. 

_Nonsense! I am real! What we don’t know is . . . who I am. Why I’m here. Well, there’s a lot we don’t know, I suppose. _

A small smile graced Byleth’s lips as she strode into the dining hall. It was breakfast and she hoped to grab a quick bite and head back to her room to prepare her lesson plan for the day. Her students needed to re-learn some basic strategies after a prank by Claude derailed her last lesson. It wasn’t a punishment per se—she really did enjoy the bucket of water the Leader of the Alliance had managed to dunk on an unsuspecting Seteh’s head—but she did have to do something to show that she was more mature than the rest of them. 

“Professor!”

Too late, Hilda had caught her. The pink haired girl sauntered toward her, a smirk playing on her peach lips. She was impeccably dressed, a faint smell of roses floating as she walked. With that mischievous glint in her eye, Byleth prepared herself. 

“Good morning, Hilda.”

“Professor, I was wondering if I could stay on the sidelines for our next—”

Byleth was already shaking her head, “No—”

“Just hear me out! I’m delicate flower and I don’t think I should—”

“Oh, Hilda! Hey, Professor! Come eat with us!” Raphael’s booming voice echoed across the hall as all eyes turned to the small group of Golden Deer students gathered at a far back table.

“Hilda, we’ll discuss this after we eat.”

“But Professor!”

“C’mon, Hilda, it’s too early for this,” Claude seemingly appeared from nowhere—a talent of his that he used to cause mischief, judging by the number of complaints that Seteh had brought to her—but this morning, Byleth found herself smiling at the young prankster. Claude continued, “Let’s grab breakfast and then beg Teach for leniency.”

Hilda sighed, but reluctantly did as she was told, moving toward the group of Golden Deer. Claude remained, smiling at his professor softly.

“You’re still in trouble, Claude.”

Claude just chuckled, “Aw, c’mon Teach, I saw you chuckling.”

Byleth did her best to remain stern, but found her tough façade fading, “Seteh would say otherwise.”

“Well, Seteh is a stick in the mud—”

She hardened her tone, “Claude.”

The Leader shrugged, sighing, “All right, Teach, I get it.” He snagged her breakfast tray and took a few steps toward the Golden Deer. When she didn’t follow, his smile dimmed, uncertainty sparkling in his eyes, “You will have breakfast with us, right?”

The hesitation made her pause. Claude was many things—indecisive was not one of them. She noticed that around the other students, Claude was brash, loud, energetic and a born leader, but around her, he’d always seemed to second guess himself. On the Battlefield, he took great strides to keep her out of harms way, despite the fact that she was more than capable of taking care of herself.

_Perhaps, the boy has feelings for you? _

Byleth tried to silence the voice. True, Claude was only a year younger than her and he did make her feel happy, but she was his teacher. Not to mention the fact that he was going to be the Leader of the Alliance. As for her? Byleth had no idea what the future held. Under normal circumstances, they never would’ve met.

But here they were, dancing around each other.

“Teach?” He gave her those puppy dog eyes, practically pleading with his expression.

She shouldn’t go down this road. She shouldn’t get attached to him. It would only break her heart in the end.

“Sure.”

But Goddess help her, she couldn’t stay away.


	2. Meddling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Manuela plays Cupid much to Byleth's disdain.

“And would you believe the nerve of him!” Manuela leaned in, placing her hands on Byleth’s desk, almost conspiratorially lowering her voice, “He told me that I looked my age! Me! Ha!”

Byleth really enjoyed the other female professor, truly. Manuela often stopped by her office for lively chats over delicious pastries and tea. Normally, the younger professor loved to hear the latest gossip and rumors surrounding everyone at the monastery, but today she had a pile of paper to grade and a nasty headache. Manuela’s high-pitched voice wasn’t helping.

“I’m sure he meant it as a compliment,” She insisted softly, trying to lower the noise in her tiny office, “Like, wow, I can’t believe you look like you do!”

Manuela rolled her eyes, “That doesn’t make sense. Men just don’t understand what we girls have to go through to keep our figures pleasing.”

Byleth kept her lips in a tight smile, “Perhaps.” The younger woman carefully poured a glass of tea and took a measured sip. The refreshing jasmine soothed the pounding in her head, but it refused to go away completely, much to her dismay.

A spark alighted in Manuela’s eyes, “But you know who spoke to me the other day? Sylvain! Now, he’s a looker—”

“And a student,” She took another sip of her tea, “And a terrible flirt as well.”

Manuela chuckled, “Now, now, my dear Byleth, who knew you would be such a stickler for proper protocol!” The older woman smirked, her peach lips twinkling from the lip stick she had applied, “But really, you’re what? A year older than some of your students? If you were to become interested in one—”

Her cup clattered to the table, “Manuela, this has been so much fun, but I’m afraid that I have grading to attend to.”

“Of course,” Manuela rose gracefully from her chair, placing her cup daintily on the table. Still a mischievous glint remained in her sparkling eyes, “I’ve often seen Claude—”

“Goodbye, Manuela.”

Laughing, Manuela waved and left, shutting the office door behind her.

Byleth leaned back, shutting her eyes, willing her pounding mind to go blank, but instead Claude’s face appeared in her mind’s eye. It was true, she had a sort of affection for the future leader of the Alliance, but really, she was found of all her students! And so, what if Claude’s teasing made her smile for the first time in her life and she was always was excited to see him? He was her student. He would be a leader one day, a noble and she . . .

She was a former mercenary, turned professor, who barely understood her own past. Her earliest memories were gone, and subsequent ones were cloudy and hard to grasp. Jeralt was always evasive and uncomfortable when she asked him about their life before becoming mercenaries.

_Not to mention, we still don’t understand why I’m here._

Ah, yes, and the voice in her head. The sign that she could be crazy. Then, there was the unknown crest that she had displayed and Rhea’s odd fascination with her—

Her mind exploded with a sharp pain and Byleth groaned, slumping forward and letting her forehead rest on the cool wood of the desk. She was thinking too hard, pushing herself too far. She needed to slow down and take stock. Sure, there were mysteries abounding and Claude stirred emotions in her that she didn’t quite understand, but did she really need to figure it out right now?

A soft knock on the door caught her attention.

“Teach? Can I come in?”

Of course, he would be there. Of course, he would find her in the midst of an existential crisis. The Goddess must’ve been cackling with glee from her perch up above.

“Teach?”

Byleth hesitated. She could pretend that she wasn’t here. If she sat quietly enough and waited him out, it would be fine, but what if he stayed out there for a long time? Or what if he came back? No, Byleth wasn’t a coward and she wasn’t going to run from one of her students.

“Come in,” She forced herself to take deep, calming breaths and grounded herself. As the door open and the roguish prankster stepped into her office, Byleth almost fooled herself into thinking she was okay, “Claude, if you’re here for your exam, I haven’t graded them yet—”

He took a seat in the chair across from her, leaning back and resting his hands behind his head. He was much too comfortable in here already and instead of worrying her, that charmed her. There was something about Claude that could make her lower her defenses. Maybe it was his easy-going nature or the way he was always upbeat. Regardless, she found herself drawn to him.

“No, actually, I was wondering if you needed anything.”

She raised an eyebrow.

Claude cleared his throat a few times before continuing, forcing nonchalance, “I ran into Professor Manuela and she said you weren’t feeling too well.”

_That woman is quite meddlesome. I applaud her bravery. _

Byleth bit her lower lip, preventing a chuckle from escaping. Of course, Manuela would do this. The woman loved meddling in romantic affairs almost as much as she loved lamenting her own romantic failures.

_But you do not love this boy, do you not? _

Love Claude? Goddess no! She didn’t love him. She liked him, sure, but she didn’t love him. She barely knew him. He was her student! She couldn’t allow her mind to wander—

“Teach? You okay?” He sat up and his eyes swam with concern. He reached for her, soft fingers touching her temple. He frowned, “Headache?”

“Yes.”

They stayed like that for a bit, his cool fingers resting on her head. He smiled softly at her and she found herself grinning back. She wanted to lean into his touch, wanted to seek comfort from him, but it was impossible.

They were from different worlds. It would never work.

She broke off the contact first, standing up suddenly, “Thank you, Claude, for your concern, but I will be quite fine on my own.”

His face fell, but he covered the disappointment with that trademark smirk of his. He stood up and nodded, “Get some rest, Teach. We all want you to be at your best.”

“You too.”

They stood there for a moment, each unsure of what came next.

“Well, see you around, Teach.” He strode out, the door shutting behind him. As soon as he disappeared from her view, Byleth collapsed back into her chair, her head in her hands. Damn Manuela and her meddling! As soon as her headache was gone, she was going to give that woman a firm talking to.

But for now, she supposed she could just let herself remember the phantom of his fingers on her head.

Blushing, Byleth sighed.

This had to stop.

Tomorrow. It had to stop tomorrow.


	3. Battles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A routine battle doesn't go as expected.

There’s a certain comfort to being back on the battlefield again. This is where Byleth practically grew up, following Jeralt and the mercenaries who raised her from one mission to the next, crossing the grassy green hills of the countryside as they did so. On the battlefield, there aren’t emotions—Jeralt taught her that—and there’s just strategy. What’s the best way to get to an opponent, how can you minimize injuries and maximize effectiveness? On the battlefield, she can just let herself go, let her mind process and guide her as she destroys the opponents put before her.

This time though, it’s different. It’s not just her and Jeralt. This time, it’s her, leading a bunch of teenagers to face off against a band of cruel mercenaries. Honestly, the young professor had no idea what Rhea had been thinking sending them out like this, but she supposed that this was supposed to test them all—both her students’ fighting abilities and her teaching style.

“You okay?” Jeralt strides beside her on his horse, his eyes carefully measuring her expression.

“Fine.”

“Your kids seem well prepared,” He continues, “Well, aside from one girl who asked if I could—”

She can’t stop chuckling, “Hilda tends to do that.”

Jeralt smiles, bright and unguarded. She’s seen him less since he came back to the Knights of Seiros and while there’s a million questions that she wants to ask him, she knows that now is not the time.

“They seem to be taken with you though.”

“I suppose.”

“Manuela even mentioned that—”

She glares at him, practically daring him to finish that sentence. For whatever reason, Manuela seemed to have made it her mission to spread rumors that Claude and Byleth were both madly in love with each other. Whether she truly believed this or whether the older woman was just a fan of creating gossip to discuss over tea, Byleth didn’t know. But she would get to the bottom of this when she returned to the monastery. These rumors had to stop.

“Teach!” Claude jogs up, nodding respectfully at Jeralt. Raphael and Ignatz trail beside him, both gripping their weapons.

“Professor, we’ve spotted the enemy at the southeast corner of the forest,” Ignatz reports, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze downcast, “Should we get into formation?”

“Let’s do this!” Raphael pumps his fist, beaming like he always does, so carefree and energetic.

“Teach,” Claude meets her gaze, those eyes of him sparkling not with mischievous intent, but with determination, “We’re with you.”

She smiles, touched by his support. She knew the Golden Deer were with her. Her students constantly showed their support, whether it was as simple as Marianne offering her some tea or Lysithea always coming to visit her office with sweets she’d taken from the dining hall. Despite her inexperience, despite her fears that she was lacking as a teacher, Byleth loved them and she knew they loved her.

“All right then,” She puts her emotions away, forces herself to be in the moment, “Let’s do this.”

They have a battle to win after all.

* * *

“I’m so sorry!” Marianne is still sobbing and Byleth feels horrible for the young woman.

“Marianne, it’s really fine.” Byleth assures her, forcing a pained smile onto her lips.

The battle had gone fairly straightforward. With Jeralt’s help, they’d been able to corner the leader and it looked like it was going to be an easy victory—that is until Marianne was cornered. The girl was a skilled healer, but she wasn’t quite proficient with her sword yet. She’d sent Raphael to go with her, but in the confusion of their first real battle, Raphael had gotten separated.

Byleth had watched Marianne be impaled and killed right before her eyes.

_Yes, but we saved her, did we not?   
_ The Divine Pulse had reset the damage, but Byleth had put herself in harm’s way and ended up being nicked by a soldier’s blade. The wound wasn’t deep, but it did hurt, and the blood loss was starting to make her a bit woozy. Jeralt had rushed off to find a more capable mage, leaving the students behind with strict orders not to move until he returned.

“Honestly, Marianne, tears aren’t helping,” Hilda mutters, but her eyes are swimming in concern.”

“I could try a spell—” Lysithea offers softly, but Byleth waves her off.

“I’m okay, really,” She places her un-injured hand on Marianne’s shoulder, trying to comfort the crying girl, “These things happen.”

She’s sitting on the field, controlling her breath, trying to not let the dizziness overtake her. The other students are returning from finishing up a perimeter sweep, and she can make out their shapes as the world darkens.

“Professor?” Hilda leans in and Byleth feels herself listing.

“Easy there,” Claude’s strong arms are there suddenly, supporting her, his voice by her ear, “I’ve got you, Teach.”

“Claude?” Her voice is slurring, not good, but she can’t panic, not now, not in front of her students—

“Just keep your eyes open for me, okay?” He’s grinning down at her, but his eyes aren’t sparkling, and she wonders why, he’s usually so carefree—

“Ignatz, bandages!” Hilda commands, sharp and strong.

“Teach, c’mon, stay with us,” The world is going dark now, but she keeps her eyes on him, wants to always see him, even as she feels herself going, “Byleth, please!”

But then the world is dark, and she is no more.

* * *

“Well, you gave us all quite a scare,” Manuela sips her tea delicately, her eyes never moving from Byleth’s visage.

Byleth had awoken in the infirmary two days after the battle, Jeralt by her bedside and her students huddled outside the door. Manuela had allowed the Golden Deer a quick visit, but chased them out, demanding rest for the haggard young professor. In the passing days, she hadn’t seen her students, though she was sure they were visiting, judging by the amount of sweets that kept appearing on her bedside table.

“Who knew the blades were dipped in poison,” Byleth remarks softly, “At least you had the antidote handy.”

“I am a skilled caretaker, it’s true,” The older woman agrees, placing her tea cup down, “Your students have been asking to see you. Do you feel up to it?”

“Yes.”

Manuela chuckles, “She says it’s okay!”

The door immediately bursts open and Marianne steps in, her hair askew and her clothes rumpled. She’s changed out of her battle gear, but it’s clear that she hasn’t been resting.

“Professor,” Marianne’s eyes well with tears and her voice quivers, “I am so—”

Byleth simply holds out her arms and lets the wailing girl embrace her. She may not be in touch with her feelings, but if it will comfort Marianne, then she will do it.

“It’s okay,” Byleth soothes, “I’m okay.”

Marianne just holds her tighter. 


	4. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been two days and Byleth swears that she's fine.

Rhea orders her to rest for the next few days and has Manuela cover her classes. Despite feeling completely fine, Byleth has no choice but to do as she’s told. She spends much of her free time with her student, eating meals with them and tutoring them, but really, she wants to assure them that she’s okay. She knows that Marianne wasn’t the only one terrified by seeing their professor collapse and while it’s a reality that they will need to accept, the young professor can’t help but indulge them.

At dusk, Jeralt brings her some food from the dining hall and Byleth finally looks up from her grading, startled. Her father chuckles, placing the plate down and smiles softly, “Your mother used to make that same shocked expression.”

It’s rare for him to mention her mother. Byleth knows so little of her, her father only mentioning that she adored flowers and she loved Byleth. Any further questions were put aside, tabled for a future discussion that never came.

“Did she?” She keeps her voice calm, almost like she was afraid to startle him.

“Yeah,” Jeralt runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “Look, I know I haven’t exactly been the best with telling you about the past,” He sits down at her desk, grim determination etched on his face, “But I will tell you everything. I just . . . I need some time to look into something.”

That something, Byleth assumes, is Rhea. For whatever reason, Jeralt didn’t trust the Archbishop, though he wouldn’t share his reasons for the suspicion. Rhea didn’t seem exactly evil, but there was something a bit off with her. Though, Jeralt clearly had a past with her, one that seemed to be complicated and filled with secrets.

“Okay,” Byleth forces a smile onto her lips, “I understand.”

She doesn’t really, but what other choice does she have? She’ll have to wait for her father to open up to her, to fill her in on the blank slate that is her past.

There’s a knock on her door and Claude stands in the doorway. He catches the gaze of Jeralt, and he hesitates, “Hey, Teach. I can come back.”

Jeralt rises from his chair, “No, it’s fine. Alois wanted me to check in, so I’d better go before he disturbs half the monastery with his booming voice.” He shoots Claude a quick grin and then ducks out of the room.

“How you are doing, Teach?” Claude remains in the doorway, arms folded across his chest, lips drawn tight in a frown.

“Fine,” Her voice comes out more worried than she intends, but she’s never seen Claude like this, so serious and stoic. He’s supposed to be jovial and teasing her, something like a joke about her falling asleep on the job. Instead, his whole demeanor is dark and brooding. She crosses to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“Me?” He huffs out a laugh, “I’m not the one who almost died of poison.”

“It wasn’t that—”

“It was pretty damn close, Teach,” He snaps at her, venom dripping from his words. Then, sighing, he continues softly, “We didn’t know if you had made it.”

She wants to hold him like she did with Marianne, to assure him of her presence, but she knows that she can’t. It wouldn’t be appropriate, and it could lead to something that she would regret. So, she settles for squeezing his shoulder and beaming, “I did. I’m here, Claude.”

She knew that her students would be shaken, but she must prepare them better. There might come a day when she falls in battle and they must be prepared to move on and win. She’d die for the Golden Deer a thousand times over before she’d let them sustain even a bruise.

Arms encircle her waist, reaching up her back and pulling her close. Claude rests his head on top of hers, his grip holding her like a vice. He shakily exhales, “I thought I lost you.” He buries his face into the crook of her neck, and she can feel him shaking. He’s so fragile right now, so vulnerable and she doesn’t know what she should do.

Her hands move on her known, pulling him close to her. She shuts her eyes, afraid that this moment is just a dream, a passing fantasy, but as the seconds tick by, he remains.

“I would never leave you,” She whispers, so quietly that she isn’t even sure whether she says it out loud or in her head, “I’m here.”

They stay like that for a small eternity.

Claude finally releases her, some semblance of the carefree joker returning to his visage.

She doesn’t know what to say now. It was a hug, right? Just like what she did with Marianne. It’s understandable to comfort her students after such a traumatic event. And that’s what this is—comforting Claude.

“Claude, I—”

“Don’t say anything,” He interjects quickly, “Just . . . let me have this.”

And that’s when he kisses her. 


	5. (Don't) Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is fine. Really. Byleth's not panicking. You're panicking. She's fine. Really. (Not).

It’s been over a day since Claude kissed her and her lips are still tingling.

The kiss had taken her completely by surprise and she froze for a moment, feeling his lips on hers, before abruptly pulling away. She’d run from him—really, she’d fled from her office—and hadn’t seen him since. She wasn’t avoiding him per se, but her mandatory resting period was coming to an end and she would need to return to the classroom soon.

It wasn’t the kiss that bothered her so much. It was the feeling it sparked inside her, one of deep longing and of hope. When he kissed her, she felt like she belonged for the first time in her life. It was like her heart came to life and beat only for him.

_You have strong feelings for the boy, it’s true. But, he’s to be the Leader of the Alliance. Is it wise to pursue him? _

She doesn’t need the voice in her head to remind her of all the reasons why she needs to tell Claude that they will never be a couple. There’s the fact that she’s a teacher and he’s her student. Lack of age difference aside, it would surely cause a scandal for a teacher and student to date. Then, there was Claude’s precarious position in the Alliance. He was a new leader, one that had to earn the respect of the other Houses. If he were to date someone below his stature, that would reflect poorly on him.

_You must let him go. It’s for the best._

“Professor?” Hilda’s voice catches her off guard and Byleth nearly jumps. Hilda winces, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude!”

Byleth shakes her head, motioning for Hilda to come into her office, “No, it’s fine. I was lost in thought. What’s on your mind?”

Hilda has started to grow on her. While the pink-haired noble was still incredibly lazy, she also held a strong will. She took easily take charge of tasks that caught her interest and she had no problem putting others in their place. Hilda was bright and jovial, and people flocked to her.

“I was wondering if you might like to come to town with me?”

Byleth blinks, shocked. Out of all the questions she thought Hilda would ask, this was not one of them.

Hilda continues, “Professor, we have a ball coming up in a few months.”

The ball? Byleth remembers Manuela mentioning it briefly, but the young teacher has no idea why Hilda is already so focused on it.

“Professor,” Hilda draws out the syllables, sighing at the end, “Surely you intend to wear a gown to the ball?”

“A gown?”

“Yes!” Hilda snaps, exasperated, “A gown! A regal dress befitting a ball! One that you would need to order a few months before said ball so that it could be made and crafted with the finest materials.”

Byleth has never once worn a gown in her life. As a mercenary, she never had need of one. As a professor, she’d figured that she would simply be supervising the students and not partaking in the revelry.

“Hilda, I don’t need a—”

“Nonsense,” The young teen interjects, “Professor, you may be an expert in battles, but I’m an expert in the art of decorum and you will be getting a gown, end of discussion,” She beams brightly at Byleth, “Shall we go?”

And that’s how Byleth finds herself in the local town, being fitted for a gown that she won’t see until a week before the ball. 

* * *

Manuela is waiting for her when she returns from the impromptu trip. She carries a bag of sweets and wears a slight smirk on her pale pink lips—a look that says it all.

She knows.

Byleth brews tea and once they are inside with the door carefully locked behind them, Manuela grins, “Claude seems to be a bit distracted recently. He nearly ran into a tree on his way to class this morning.”

Byleth sips her tea, trying to keep her expression blank, “He can be quite clumsy.”

“He kissed you, didn’t he?”

“Yes.”

Manuela sighs dreamily, “Ah, young love.”

“There is no such thing,” Byleth denies quickly, hardening her gaze, “Claude and I—we’re not a couple.”

“Well, that would explain why he looks like he hasn’t had a good night sleep in a few days,” The mature woman replies lightly, taking a bite of one of the cookies she brought. Then, quietly, “You don’t feel the same?”

She could deny it. She could tell Manuela that she wants nothing to do with Claude and the kiss was a mistake and nothing more. But the more she thinks about it, the more she wonders if denying the kiss would mean denying herself a chance to fully live. When Claude kissed her, she felt something. She no longer felt numb for those blissful seconds that his lips were on hers. 

“He’s going to be the Leader of the Alliance,” Byleth points out, “And he’s my student. It would hardly be proper—”

“Oh, screw propriety!” Manuela curses loudly, “Follow your heart.”

“I can’t.”

“At least talk to the boy! If not for your own sake, then for the sake of the class. I don’t think they can handle any more of their fearless leader brooding.”

They sit in silence for a bit, sipping tea and listening to the birds chirp outside.

“Manuela, I . . . I’m scared.” If she confesses her feelings and follows her heart, she’ll enter the unknown. She’s never felt this way. She doesn’t know how to navigate a romantic relationship. She doesn’t even know if this will last with Claude. Does she want it to? There are so many unknowns.

Manuela reaches over and places a hand on hers, a soft grin playing on her lips, “Talk to him.”

Byleth shakily lets out a breath and nods.

No more running away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I just wanted to say thank you for all the kinds words! I'm so happy that you love these Golden Deer goofs as much as me.


	6. Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Listen to your heart and you will understand.

Byleth finds that romance is much like planning for a battle. First, you have to evaluate your target—know their likes, dislikes, what they want, what they fear. Then, you must figure out your strategy. Do you ambush them, shocking them into submission? Do you charge them and hope for the best? Do you use spies to get a glimpse of their own plans?

Of course, this isn’t a battle. There’s no enemy to destroy, no battle to win. There’s just her and Claude—their feelings and whether they choose to act on them. She doesn’t know what Claude is hoping for, kiss aside. The kiss could’ve impulsive or some sort of prank. She wouldn’t put it past him as a dare between him and Sylvain. Or—and maybe this is what terrifies her—maybe he meant it.

Manuela sets the meeting and for once, Byleth appreciates her meddling. She doesn’t know if she would be able to face Claude right now in front of others. She must maintain professionalism with her students and if she were to see Claude . . . who knows how she would react?

“Teach?” His voice has a nervous lilt to it as he steps into the private meeting room. It’s a cushy room, with wide windows that let in the warm sunlight and give a view of the rose gardens below.

She rises from the plush couch and smiles, nervous butterflies winging around in her stomach, “Thanks for meeting me.”

“Sure.” He shuts the door behind him, the thud resounding in the quiet room. He sits down across from her, his eyes downcast, biting his lower lip in a nervous tick.

Byleth sits back down, her hands clutched together. She clears her throat, feeling heat surging to her cheeks. She takes a few steady breaths, finally stating, “The kiss was a mistake.”

Claude looks up at that, blinks like a deer caught off guard, “What?”

She forces her voice to be stronger, more forceful, “We never should’ve kissed. You’re my student and I’m your teacher.”

“You’re like two years older than me—!” He protests quickly.

“And we’re from two different worlds,” She continues, not letting her breaking heart sway her, “It would never work or be accepted.” She smiles, “I’m flattered, Claude, truly, but it’s best that we both just chalk this up to teenage folly and move on.”

She expects him to say something—joke about how she’s right, make a sly remark about her being a mercenary—but what he does instead shocks her.

“Teenage folly,” Claude repeats, voice devoid of any warmth or humor, “Is that what you think it was?”

She tilts her head to the side, her face scrunching up in confusion, “Wasn’t it?”

He sighs raggedly, leaning forward and resting his warm hands on hers, “Byleth, I love you.”

_The boy loves you? _

“What?”

He grins, that cocky grin that always gets whenever he knows an answer to a question way before everyone else, “I said I love you.”

Her brain is on the fritz. She can’t process anything. Her heart pounds, almost as if it’s going to come flying out of her chest. She’s always been in control of her limited emotions. To feel so . . . strongly about anything is new for her.

“Teach, say something.”

“Stop teasing me,” Anger wells up in her and she jerks her hands away from him, “If Sylvain is waiting—”

“It’s not a joke!” He snaps, “I meant it. I meant the kiss and I mean what I’m saying.” He meets her gaze, almost daring her to call him out.

“I’m your professor.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“And I’m a former mercenary.”

“Teach, you get me confused with Lorenz? I don’t care about social status.”

She wants to throttle him. She wants to embrace him.

_Calm yourself. You are the one in control. Remember what Manuela said. Where does your heart lead you?_

Once again, the voice in her head is smarter than Byleth herself might be. She takes a moment, shutting her eyes, blocking out everything but her pounding heartbeat. What does she really want?

Her eyes fly open. She faces him.

“Why?”

He stares at her, “Why what?”

“You said you love me. You barely know me.”

“Okay,” He runs a hand through his hair, “I love you because you care about us. I love you because that day on the battlefield, you almost died to protect us. But, most of all, I love you because you don’t treat me like I’m going to be an important noble.” He stands up, crosses the space between them and rests a hand on her cheek, “I love you, Teach. That’s not going to change.”

And this time, when they kiss, it’s her that initiates it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will be on vacation so a new chapter will be posted in two weeks. See you then!


	7. Rumor Has It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumors abound regarding Claude and Byleth's sudden closeness.

Their relationship isn’t forbidden, but that’s more by technicality than anything else. She’s heard Seteh lecturing Manuela on multiple occasions about the impropriety of students dating teachers and how a romantic relationship with a student would compromise the reputation of the school. So, while Byleth considers her private life private, she admits that she and Claude need to practice discretion. She also admits that’s hard, with their relationship—can she call it that?—is so fragile, like a foal learning to walk.

This love . . . it’s so precious and she doesn’t want to share it. Whatever is going on between her and Claude, Byleth just wants it to be theirs. She doesn’t want to have to deal with the inquisitive whispers of the other students, or the gossip from the monks—she just wants Claude.

And she definitely doesn’t want her father to know. She can already imagine how that would go and nearly every scenario ends with Claude getting impaled by her father’s sword.

So, they hide in dark hallways and steal kisses here and there. Sometimes, at night, they meet at the library to have a few blissful moments with each other. It’s not enough, but for right now, until they both know that this love is true, it will have to do.

Yet, the thrill of Claude’s lips on hers only grows.

She doesn’t know whether to be worried of that or not.

* * *

Manuela is the only one who knows, though Byleth doesn’t dare admit it to her. Regardless, aside from a few cheeky remarks in her office long after any prying ears might be listening, the elder professor keeps her mouth shut. The rest of the Golden Deer are, blissfully, unaware. Claude is a good actor, able to engage her in class without raising any undue suspicion. To an outsider, it would just appear like he’s a dedicated student and she, a professor who wants to help the future leader of the Alliance. There’s nothing to speculate about, though she does catch Hilda muttering about a possible romance once in the dining hall, but the pink-haired girl quickly stammered out an apology when Seteh overheard the remark and sentenced her to battle study in his office.

“Honestly,” Seteh shakes his head, taking a seat beside her, “What good does that girl think salacious rumors will bring?”

Once a week, the professors all dine together, though today, Seteh joins them instead of Hanneman—the older gentleman having, apparently, made a breakthrough in his latest crest research.

Manuela winks, smirking, “I think it’s sweet. Byleth and Claude would make a cute couple.”

Seteh’s drink splutters as he coughs, “Preposterous!”

“Oh, come on, Seteh,” Manuela chides softly, “What harm could there be in it?”

“Harm?” Seteh glares, practically hissing, “The reputation of the monastery for one! That and the fact that Claude is a noble and Byleth is not!”

“Sitting right here,” Byleth feels compelled to state and instantly, Seteh’s face falls. She interjects before he can apologize, “You can relax. Hilda just has an active imagination.”

“Truly? Flayn said she had seen the two of them together at night—”

That makes her stomach fall. Flayn, the quiet girl, the one who barely spoke to anyone, of course she would be the one to see them. It was always the quiet ones that you had to watch out for, Jeralt taught her that.

“Now, Seteh,” Manuela steels her voice, leaning in closer, “You aren’t spying on us, are you?”

“No!” Seteh protests, throwing his hands up in defeat, “She simply mentioned it. She was worried about the rumors—”

Byleth stands up abruptly. She mutters something—an excuse, she hopes—and flees. The dining hall feels stifling, like the walls are closing in and she runs outside, to the courtyard, the secret one behind the church where no one goes. Under the endless blue sky, Byleth finally gains her breath.

_This relationship . . . It’s unwise._

She knows. It’s a mistake. She should’ve stuck to her guns back then, should’ve shut the door on her growing feelings. She and Claude, they can’t—

“Hey, Teach.”

_The timing of this guy._

He takes her hand in his and she melts, sinking her head onto his shoulder, letting his presence ground her. His brow furrows as his eyes study her with concern, “You okay?”

She’s not. They can’t continue like this. Sooner or later, they’ll be caught and then what? She should end it now—

“Flayn saw us.”

Claude holds her tightly, whispering, “Let them see.”

“We can’t.”

“Why?”

She sighs. They’ve had this argument before, numerous times, “You’re the—”

“I don’t give a damn about my title!” He snaps, breaking off from her, “Damn the Alliance! I don’t care as long as I have you.”

She should be flattered. Any other girl would be, but anger wells up in her. He has a country to govern, people who will one day look up to him for guidance and support. He can’t give that up, not for her.

“I care about the people of the Alliance,” She informs him, “You should too.”

He deflates, “Byleth, I didn’t mean—”

“Whether you like your title or not, you are going to be the Leader. You should start acting like it instead of a spoiled child.”

With that, she turns on her heel and leaves.

* * *

_You sure told him._

She lies on her bed that night, too scared to go down for dinner though her stomach rumbles.

_Not that I disapprove. A leader should put his people first, but he’s just a child really. _

A child willing to throw everything away for her, not even thinking about the consequences. Maybe he could live with that, but Byleth could not. She had seen too many people suffering in the Alliance from plagues and bandits. They needed a strong leader. Claude had to be that.

_He loves you. Surely that counts for something. _

“You told me to break it off!” Byleth shouts, sitting up in bed.

_Perhaps I was mistaken._

She groans, letting her head fall once more against the pillow.

“Professor!” Marianne throws open the door, eyes wild and hair askew, “You must come. It’s Claude!”

Byleth doesn’t wait for any more information.

She just sprints after Marianne and hopes to the Goddess that she wouldn’t live to regret what she said. 


	8. Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Claude does something stupid and Byleth is forced to decide once and for all what she wants to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, it's been awhile. Sorry for that! But I'm back. More Byleth/Claude goodness coming your way.

* * *

The sight that greets her on the training field puzzles her more than alarms her. For on one side of the dirt field is Seteh, brow furrowed, lips set in a thin line and on the other is Claude, armed with a practice bow.

“He challenged Seteh out of the blue,” Marianne mumbles, “But, Professor, I’m worried. Claude is upset. He’s going to hurt himself.”

_He wishes for the man to acknowledge your relationship?_

It doesn’t matter what Claude hopes to achieve. Byleth can’t let this sparring match continue and with the crowd gathered not only of Golden Deer students, but those from other houses, she needs to put an end to this. Sighing, Byleth steadies her nerves before stepping out onto the field.

“Ah, Professor,” Seteh greets, slightly inclining his head in greeting, “I trust you’ll handle this nonsense.”

“I apologize on his behalf,” Byleth bows deeply, keeping her tone soft and calm, “Please let me handle this.” Seteh waves her off and Byleth turns to face Claude. His face is flushed with anger and his eyes are clouded with sadness. He refuses to meet her gaze, white-knuckling the bow in his grip. She glances at the crowd, which hasn’t dispersed yet, probably hoping for a show.

“Professor—” Claude starts to say, but Byleth shakes her head. She reaches for a wooden practice sword and motions for Claude to do the same.

“Don’t hold back.” She orders sharply and she can see Claude stiffen at her firm tone.

He glances over the wooden sword for a moment and then finally nods.

She charges at him, wooden sword colliding as she strikes his. She’s furious, but so is he and he breaks free and tries to hit under legs. She jumps back and parries his barrage of blows.

_You must stop this! Both of you are in no position to fight each other._

But this is more than just a sparring match. Their feelings are being worked out here. Claude, in his own way, is trying to show her that he’s worthy of the Alliance. She won’t make this easy for him. He has to understand—just like she knows—that duty will always come first before love. If he truly cares for her and the Alliance, he will understand that.

It was foolish—this relationship of theirs. She let herself get swept away in the way he made her feel, instead of focusing on the practicality of it all. She and him were on two different paths in life. She has a duty to teach him, to help him become the best leader he can.

There is no time for love.

He almost catches her off-guard, but she blocks, their swords pushing firmly at each other.

“I’m not giving up on us, Teach,” Claude has the nerve to smirk at her, even though he’s straining to block her attack, “So, trust me.”

Byleth huffs, “You’re stubborn.”

Claude beams, bright as the sun, “That’s why you love me, Teach.”

Her heart flutters, but she easily knocks the sword out of his hand. She slams him to the ground and places the tip of hers under his chin.

“You’re going to be punished for this.”

She can hear the Golden Deer cheering for her, calling out, “That’s our Professor!” and “Claude didn’t stand a chance!”

For his part, Claude is nonplussed, “I figured.”

“My office. Tomorrow.”

She puts her sword away and steps off the field, her mind spinning with possibilities. As she walks to her office, she wonders if duty and love can coexist.

_What will you do with the boy?_

Byleth shuts her office door behind her and rests her head in her hands.

“Professor?” A soft voice calls out from the other side, “May I come in?”

“Yes.”

Manuela opens the door, an easy-going grin on her lips. She carries a small tray of tea with some stolen pastries from the dining hall.

“I figured with all that excitement you would need some food.” She set the tray down and then gracefully sits in the plush chair across from Byleth’s desk. The mature woman studies the young professor’s face and frowns, “You’re putting too much pressure on yourself. Young love should be free and easy.”

“I shouldn’t be doing this. We had one fight and he challenges Seteh to a fight. We could’ve been found out and then—”

Manuela places a soft hand on top of hers, “Byleth, dear, breathe.”

But it feels like her lungs won’t work. Her mind and her heart are on two different paths. Does she put duty over love? Or love or duty? How could she let this happen?

“May I be frank?”

Byleth arches an eyebrow, “Aren’t you always?”

Manuela chuckles, “You have smiled more these past weeks being with Claude than the whole time I’ve known you.” The mature woman squeezes Byleth’s hand, her eyes meeting the young woman’s gaze, “The circumstances aren’t the best, I agree, but love rarely is perfect. What do you want?”

_She’s right. What do you want? The boy?_

Byleth has never wanted for anything in her life. She’s never felt a need to pursue love. She’s out of her depth here. She should put an end to it. But, deep down, in her heart of hearts . . .

“I want Claude.”

Manuela beams, “There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Byleth has a feeling it will become harder.

* * *

Claude arrives at her office, bright and early. He fidgets a bit, clearly nervous as to what she will say to him, but before she can speak, he bows and informs her, “Sorry. I was wrong before. The people of the Alliance come first. You’re right.”

She watches him carefully, searching for any sign of weakness, “Do you truly believe that?” He could just be saying what she wants to hear. She needs to make sure.

Claude rises, determination flashing in his gaze, “I was being selfish. You’re right. I have people to lead. I need to be the best leader I can for them,” He grabs her hand suddenly, gripping it tightly, “But you’re important too. I don’t see why I can’t be a good leader and be with you.”

She sighs raggedly, “Your title—”

“Don’t start with that crap again,” Claude replies quickly, “Look, Byleth, if you really want this to end, fine, but it has to be because you want it to end. Not because you’re worried about how this will work with your lack of title or how the Houses of the Alliance will take it.”

She could picture the shock and outrage that would color those nobles’ faces. Their noble leader being with a commoner, and his teacher no less—well, it would be the scandal of the century.

Still, aside from that, her only concern is—

“Why did you challenge Seteh like that?”

“It was stupid, Teach. I won’t do it again.”

“Why?” She presses once more.

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “I thought maybe he had put doubts into your head. I was pissed, okay? I wasn’t thinking straight.”

She knows that he hadn’t been. Still, she can’t let him off the hook, relationship or not.

“You will let Lorenz and Lysithea teach you decorum and the history of the Alliance,” Claude opens his mouth to protest, but she pushes on, “You will do what is in the best interest of the Alliance. You are their future leader and it’s up to me to make sure you are prepared.” She rises from behind her desk and moves to him, “If you agree, we can still figure out whatever this is between us. Deal?”

Claude’s only response is to kiss her.

Byleth treasures this moment, a fleeting glimpse of a true happiness that she’s only ever seen others experience.

Of course, it couldn’t last forever. Their secret would be found out. She’d be naïve to think otherwise. But right now, being in his arms, feeling his lips on hers, Byleth can let those worries go, if only for a moment.

Just one more moment.


End file.
